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I'm here in Raleigh, and it's raining cats and dogs today. Yesterday, though, I wore flip flops and a short sleeved shirt and read a book on a bench outside, with the sun warming my skin. It felt terrific.

I've seen cotton fields, which look like a thin coat of snow in November, brown and white, patchy. I've tasted sweet tea, which is much much sweeter than I expected. There are churches everywhere, and some of them are as big as high schools or auditoriums. I've been not quite to the coast, but near enough so that I met a sailor and learned where to go to get a ride on a boat or to join in a local race. Tomorrow we'll be on the coast, and next week in the mountains. I'm going to see a lot of this state.

I'm inclined to agree with Ogged that good relationships make for crap blogging, and I'm up against my own rule against telling other people's stories if I were to make this a place to write about disagreements or doubts. So I'll not dwell too much on things with me and Mr. NBT.

I'm going to a book group meeting on Monday night. They're reading The Female Brain, which I need to find a copy of and read. I'll let you know what I think of it.

I've also been thinking lately about narrative structure. That sounds really abstract and it is, I suppose, and since I haven't really figured it out I'm not ready to write about it yet. But my most recent roommate, who just moved out, was a big fan of chick lit and trashy romance novels, and from her I acquired the habit of devouring a pink-covered paperback from time to time. I read one on the plane down. And as you know I just gobbled up the first season of Lost on DVD. And both of those things made me think about storytelling: what makes a story satisfying and what creates tension or drama or a pull onward. I wonder if music theory would teach me anything, because I think we are pattern-seeking creatures and I think there are cycles or arcs or sequences that are satisfying, just as there are series of notes or patterns of sounds that build tension until you come back to an original key. Lost does a pretty good job getting that mix of backstory and forward motion and interpersonal drama right, although hearing people talk about the most recent season I hear frustration and irritation, as though they're violating some unwritten rule about the payoff and the clues a viewer deserves. And the romance novel -- Welcome To Temptation, by Jennifer Crusie, was not particularly good, but it was very satisfying, partly because the characters were archetypes and partly because of the mix of armchair psychology backstory and partly because of the plot and the interpersonal drama. And it's not fair to say that the characters are archetypes, just as they're not archetypes on Lost. I think a successful story has characters that are archetypal but have surprises that make them individual. It seems almost like a cheap formula, but it works in popular fiction and on Lost, I think -- we like to think we have someone pinned and then realize there's something more to them, and yet also feel confirmed that we've put them in the right category. There's a formula, or an optimal blend, I think, that engages people in a story, and I've been thinking about what it might be. Anyway, more on this as I sort it out.

I'm flying south tomorrow afternoon, to the exotic and mysterious territory of North Carolina. I was talking to Turboglacier while trying to figure out what to pack. We agreed that when I get off the plane it will surely be balmy, and there will be frisky monkeys leaping around in the date palm trees and pelting me with guavas and other tropical fruits. Parrots flying overhead. Along with the treacherous snakes and the brown recluse spiders poised to strike.

My only previous exposure to NC has been the signs for South of the Border, and some billboards advertising cigarettes and fireworks, as I've driven down 95 towards Miami, or Charleston, heading for a regatta. The state will rocket upward in my estimation with this visit, I suspect. Especially because Maine in November is so hard to love. It's been raining for a couple of days, a chilly drizzle, and the trees are bare. Everything is grey-brown, sodden, wet, and cold.

After our walk this morning I opened my car door to get a coffee mug I'd left in the passenger seat. Lila jumped in and made her way into the backseat. I said, "no, no, come on, we're going inside," but she just gave me a look and curled up and lay down in the backseat. I closed the passenger door and opened the backdoor, saying, "okay, jump out, let's go into the house now." She just looked at me. She wants to go for a ride, and she knows it's just a matter of time before I get in the car. She's been out there for a couple of hours now, and I've gone out to invite her into the house three times. Nope. She looks at me, and stays put.

I don't often link, here, simply because I expect that you guys are sophisticated and smart web consumers, and I figure you've already filled up your plate with interesting reading. But from time to time I fiddle around with my bloglines subscriptions, and find new reading habits forming. Lately I've added Thomas Barnett, because I think he's pretty smart and he writes with a strong voice that I find compelling (notwithstanding the sort of macho military style). I'm really enjoying The Dilbert Blog, way more than I would have predicted. I've added From The Archives because I think Megan is a delightful kindred spirit. I continue to find Jill's Notebook a pleasant surprise each time it's updated. And this post today by David Weinberger about the legal definition of a sandwich and how we name and categorize things reminds me of why I admire his mind so much.

And I've started watching Ze Frank's The Show several times a week, both for the content and for the ways he's innovating with the medium. Another smart fellow, Ze is.

My car was broken into in my driveway last night. They took some CDs, and some sets of keys (to a friend's apartment, to my office at work and the boathouse. Taking the keys makes me nervous -- are they going to try to come back and break into my house? Eek.

I talked to my neighbor across the street. She said she'd been reading the Forecaster, a local paper, and there were reports of a rash of car break-ins, all to unlocked cars, all around our neighborhood. (Yes, my car was unlocked. And the key was in the ignition.) I called the cops to report it, so they'd know there had been another incident.

And the good news: We caught them, the police told me. We caught one and the Falmouth police caught one. We're going through our inventory -- I don't think we have any keys, but the Falmouth police have some. I congratulated the police. Thanks for catching them. I called Falmouth and a cheery sargeant told me they were still doing inventory, but they had some keys and would call me later.

I was trying to resize a photo, and couldn't. I dialed four digits, and got the IT Helpdesk. "I think I need Photoshop," I said. Sure, said a friendly guy. He then took control of my computer remotely, and installed it, while I went down the hallway to get a cup of coffee. I stopped into the ice hockey coach's office, and talked about coaching philosophy for a while. I really, really admire his approach to his sport, and to managing his team. Ten minutes later, a full cup of coffee and there on my desktop was Photoshop. Cool.

Let's have another blog party. You're invited. Help me think of ways to make it even more fun than last year's. The party will get started on December 1st.

Here's what I hope you'll do. Send me a picture of you, between now and December 1. I like pictures that show your face, but that's not necessary if you're shy. It can be your family or your pet or a place, but it has to be a real picture from your life -- no cartoons or clip art or celebrity pictures. If it's you, all the better. Especially if it's you having fun.

You can include your name or blog moniker if you want, and I'll put it, and a link of your choosing, in the caption of the photo. If you don't want anyone to know who you are, that's okay, too. I'll give you a number, so you can talk to other people at the party.

What else can we do? I was thinking about party games. What if we made it a potluck, and everyone brought a dish (via photo) and I could post the recipes in the photo caption of the dishes? Or you could bring something special, a virtual gift, and we could do a virtual yankee swap? Or everyone sent a picture of the view out their front door, and we tried to guess whose front door was whose? I dunno.

Post suggestions here for making the blog party fun, and email me your photo, with the nickname you'd prefer and a link, if you'd like. Please put "blog party" somewhere in the subject line so that GMail can store them properly.